oak and he must have made considerable noise in forcing it. Yet he did
not make any attempt to soften his footsteps as he climbed the stairs.
He hoped to be taken as an ordinary client long enough, at any rate, to
discover the whereabouts of Ivan. Once that was achieved he was reckless
as to his identity becoming known.

He needed no guide to the right door, for the clink of money and the
exclamations of many voices guided him. He threw it open and entered the
faro room with quiet assurance. Beyond a quick glance from Keller no one
took any notice of him. They took it for granted that Jim had gone into
his _bona-fides_ and that he was "square."

He took up a position at the end of the table nearest the door, and
apparently watched the game before staking. In reality he was studying
the faces of the players. He was uncertain whether he would find Ivan
there, but he had calculated that the Russian would at least be
watching, if not taking a hand, if only as a means of passing the time
during his voluntary imprisonment. And he was right. Seated at the table
two or three paces away was the Russian, lost to all save the turn of
the card.

Foyle bent over and staked a coin. At the same moment Ivan's eyes met
his in puzzled recognition. There was a crash and the gambler sprang
up, overturning the chair. His hand was outstretched, the finger
pointing at the detective.

"That man--how did he get in here?" he cried, with something like
alarm.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

For a second or a trifle more a dead silence followed Ivan's
denunciation. Heldon Foyle backed towards the door, dragging with him a
chair which he had clutched with some idea of using it as a shield
should there be a rush. There arose an angry snarl among the gamblers,
for with them suspicion was quick. A rush of crimson had swept across
Ivan's face at the first alarm. He ejaculated something excitedly in
Russian, and then went on in English--

"He is a police officer. I know him. It is the man Foyle of Scotland
Yard."

At the mention of the word police the hubble died down a little. Heldon
Foyle, leaning quietly on the back of the chair, took advantage of the
lull.

"Yes, I am a police officer," he admitted confidently. "The place is
surrounded. It will pay you to behave yourselves--you over there, put
that knife away, do you hear?"

The order was sharp and authoritative, and the Greek in whose hand the
detective had caught the gleam of steel thrus